Tales from the Attic
by livingondaydreams
Summary: Everything in the attic of Camp Half-Blood has a story. Some are happy; some are not. An acid-spraying hydra, Leroy's broken sword, & Luke's golden apple. R
1. Prologue

**A/N: An idea that came to me after reading TTC again. I'll be focusing on the items with the most details given in the books. I've already created the main OCs, but if anyone wants to suggest sidekicks, they are more than welcome. Enjoy!

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**Prologue**

Everything in the attic has a story.

Many of the stories are tragedies—they feature death, destruction.

Others, a rare few, are the stories of heroes, of successful quests and laurel wreaths.

Every hero leaves something behind.

Dust, cobwebs and rust cover the trophies, eventually.

Their stories are forgotten.

Everything in the attic has a story.


	2. Woodstock

**A/N: This first one is about the plaque that reads "Hydra Head #1, Woodstock, N.Y., 1969." If anyone wants to submit OCs for future adventures, feel free. I don't own PJO, but I do own my OCs. Enjoy!**

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HYDRA HEAD #1. WOODSTOCK, N.Y.

1969

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If nothing else, the Woodstock Festival was the most interesting three days of Dan's life. Three days of peace and music, they called it. In his case, it was more like three days of monsters and music.

See, Dan was a son of Apollo. He had blond hair swept back in that way only musicians can pull off, and blue eyes the color of a cloudy sky. The typical, all-American boy, if you ignored the fact that his father was an ancient Greek deity.

Dan was now 23, and far too old for camp. His training had run its course. He had learned how to swordfight, although he preferred a bow and arrow. His voice always made the Aphrodite girls sigh. And sometimes, if he concentrated hard enough, he could form a tiny ball of fire, a miniature sun—a skill only a few children of Apollo could master.

Woodstock was going to be his big break. Instead of singing at campfires and small cafes, his voice would be heard on radios all across the States. He would be performing on the second day with a local band hoping to make it big.

They arrived at dusk on the first day. There were thousands of hippies and music lovers gathered in the rolling fields, forming one rippling sea of bodies. Men walked around shirtless, smoking cigarettes or jamming on guitars. Women wore everything from long, flowing dresses to tiny tops and shorts that barely covered anything. There was constant noise: musicians playing up on stage, people singing along, others talking and laughing. The place was complete, awesome chaos.

"Well," Tommy, the drummer, said nervously, "better find a place to pitch camp."

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That night, Dan couldn't sleep. Maybe it was the pre-show jitters, or the relentless chatter outside the tent, or his demigod hyperactivity. Either way, there was no way he was going to fall asleep anytime soon. He might as well take a walk and look around, he thought.

He left the tent and found a clump of light trees. He climbed one to sit up on a branch. The view really was amazing from here. Tents were pitched all over the fields, campfires burning next to some of them. He could just make out the massive shape of the stage against the sky. And over to the east, he could see a hydra coming closer… _Wait_. A hydra?

Dan cursed and jumped down from his perch. Of course there would be a hydra at Woodstock. Because there wasn't enough acid here already. Dan raced back into the tent, trying not to wake his bandmates. The contents of his backpack flew everywhere as he scrambled to find his sword. There was no way he could defeat a hydra with his bow.

As soon as he raced out of the tent, Dan knew he was in trouble. The hydra was spitting acid everywhere. One of the hippies sleeping nearby had seen it and was running away, screaming something about mushrooms. Trees were slowly melting into green goo. Somehow, one of the tents had caught fire, although Dan wasn't completely sure that was related to the hydra.

He ran towards the monster, praying that he wouldn't screw this up. He had no real plan, and he also had to worry about the people who could see him. Even the Mist wasn't strong enough to alter thousands of mortals' memories.

The hydra turned towards him, hissing and spitting when it saw the celestial bronze blade. Its seven heads each looked like a giant snake's head, but with horns and a full set of sharp, jagged teeth. Dan dodged a spray of acid and slashed at the monster's neck. He missed, but the monster backed away, further from all the people. The hydra spat more acid at Dan, and this time he wasn't fast enough to avoid it. It splashed across his arm, seeping through his light shirt and burning his skin. He stumbled back, trying to recover. The hydra stalked forward, its heads hissing and snapping, hoping to finish off the demigod.

Just when the first head was within reach, Dan lunged again. It probably wasn't the smartest move, but he was desperate and apparently lucky, because the blade sliced through the hydra's throat. The other heads shrieked at him as the severed head fell to the ground. Before another head could grow, Dan concentrated and a small ball of fire formed at the base of the bleeding neck. The fire burned, sealing off the opening.

Realizing that this particular half-blood could control fire, the hydra retreated, not wanting to be killed. Dan let it go; his burning shoulder would have slowed him down anyway.

He picked up the head, grinning.

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HYDRA HEAD #1, WOODSTOCK, N.Y.

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**A/N: Love it? Hate it? Review!**


	3. Leroy

**A/N: Not very inspired at the moment. The idea was good, but I don't really like the way it turned out... oh, well. I've decided to shorten the number of stories- I'm only going to do one more (Luke vs. the dragon- intense.) because I'm really not feeling the others I came up with. Also, some reviews would be great... **

**So, now that I've gotten my little bout of self-pity out of the way, here it is: the tale of the infamous Leroy.

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_This broke and Leroy got killed. _

1999

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Leroy and Jennie were having a perfectly normal, monster-free day, until the Sphinx decided to come hang out, too.

The two demigods (a son of Dionysus and a daughter of Apollo, respectively) went to the same private high school in Boston. They had been best friends since their first summer at Camp Half Blood. Next month, they would both be headed back to camp, but for now had to wait through the endless days of classes.

As they walked down the crowded, brick sidewalk, Leroy wondered if he should even bother going back to camp. Sure, it was fun, and seeing everyone was cool, but he was starting to get sick of the constant training. As a son of Dionysus, he was inherently a little lazy, and he hated the long hours of sword fighting and wall climbing and whatnot. Did he really need to go back to all that? Leroy was pretty confident with his fighting skills; he had at least enough training to survive in the mortal world. It wasn't like he was powerful enough to attract monsters all the time.

"Lee," Jennie said jokingly, bumping his shoulder with her backpack, "What's up? You're being all contemplative…. It's not like you."

"Ah, shut up. I was just thinking…" He frowned, hesitating.

"You? Thinking? Okay, now I'm worried."

"About camp, actually," A quick glance in her direction. "I'm not sure if I'm going back. I've learned what I need to learn, and, well… I'm kinda bored with it."

Jennie was quiet for a while. That response definitely wasn't something she expected. Camp was her second home, what she looked forward to the entire year. She looked away… and something gold caught her eye.

"Sphinx!" she gasped. Jennie grabbed Leroy's arm roughly and pulled him into a doorway, already thinking of a plan. "Do you have your sword?"

"Lemme see…" he rifled through his backpack quickly, unzipping random pockets. "Got it! I distract, you shoot?" This was their normal plan; Jennie was a spectacular archer.

She nodded and ran off to get a higher position.

Leroy hurried down the street, keeping his sword hidden until he reached the monster. He slipped through the crowds and tried not to trip, as was his usual style. The last thing he needed was to fall on his face.

The Sphinx still hadn't noticed him yet; it was sitting on top of a stone pedestal trying to look like a statue. Probably deciding which of the mortals looked tastiest. Leroy crept up behind the monster and glanced up at the nearby buildings. Jennie still wasn't in position. He needed to buy some time.

He slashed at the monster's leg, leaving a good-sized cut. The Sphinx howled and spun around. She glared at the demigod before her.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not polite to sneak up on people?" she snarled. Before Leroy could answer, the monster jumped off the pedestal and landed in front of him, giving him a lovely view of her bared, decaying-flesh-covered teeth.

Leroy ran. He didn't even think about fighting her. A hellhound or a dracaena he could kill easily. A Sphinx? There was no way he could kill it on his own. _Besides,_ he convinced himself, _running will give Jennie more time. _

He didn't look back, and that was his fatal mistake. He didn't see the monster gaining. He didn't see her pounce. He didn't have time to turn around.

Instead, when the Sphinx tackled him, his sword got caught between two bricks in the sidewalk. _SNAP!_ The bronze blade broke in two, leaving the point stuck in the ground. The other half of the blade swung up, the jagged end dangerously close to Leroy, and when the Sphinx forced him to the ground...

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_This broke and Leroy got killed.

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**A/N: Love it? Hate it? Something in between? Review!**_  
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	4. Dragon

**A/N: The final story- Luke vs. the dragon. Enjoy, and don't forget to review!

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_Luke's dragon claw—the one that scarred his face_

2004

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Luke took one look at the dragon and knew it was going to be a bad day.

He was crouching at the edge of the Garden of the Hesperides, on his quest to steal a golden apple. The default quest when—_if_—ever the gods felt like giving their kids some glory. Oh, sure, it was difficult. But no one except Heracles would ever be remembered for stealing one of the apples of immortality. Really, like anyone would want to go down in history as "_Luke Castellan, son of Hermes, 34__th__ person since Heracles to steal a golden apple_"?

Luke shook his head. _Concentrate._ He analyzed the massive dragon wrapped around the tree. It was snoring heavily now, tendrils of smoke curling out of its two hundred nostrils. The dragon's body was covered in a layer of thick scales, which would be useful if he had to climb over the thing. Unfortunately, it would also be hard to penetrate if the dragon woke up.

Luke considered using the flying shoes from his dad, but decided against it. He would have to make noise to activate them, and any noise could awaken the dragon. He would save the shoes for an emergency.

He thought back to what others had done on this quest. Obviously, he couldn't trick Atlas like Heracles had (that kind of thing only worked once, and besides, he didn't want to hold up the sky). Some of the other heroes had seduced the Hesperides into either picking the apple for them or distracting the dragon, but that wasn't really Luke's style. There was, however, a daughter of Hermes in the fifties who had been on this quest. Instead of using either of the two most common methods, she had simply snuck up while the dragon was asleep (this dragon slept a _lot_), climbed onto its back, and pluck one of the shining apples from its branch. She had been the first demigod to directly steal the apple, as opposed to having an immortal take it for her. (Chiron guessed that it was the blood of the gods that protected half-bloods.)

That last plan was definitely the best way to go. Not that Luke would mind talking to the nymphs, but his heart just wasn't in it. Who cared if he failed? Or rather, who cared if he succeeded?

He crept towards the base of the tree, keeping his hand on his sword just in case the dragon woke. His footsteps were silent against the dirt; he was experienced in sneaking around. Being a son of Hermes probably helped, too. Luke's heart was pounding as he advanced. After what seemed like eons, he reached the dragon. It formed a huge, scaly, frightening mountain in front of him. One of its legs stuck out from under its massive body, so Luke decided to use that as a step.

Carefully, _carefully_, he placed his sneaker on the dragon's scaly leg, glancing up to see if the monster had noticed. It was still asleep. Luke grabbed hold of a spike and hoisted himself onto the dragon's back. He stared up at the closest apple. Its gold skin was glowing in the light of the orange sun as it dangled just a few feet above his head. He could just reach up and grab it…

So he did. The apple practically fell into his hand. It burned a little, but the warmth felt good, in a way. It made him want to jump up and down and do a touchdown dance. He felt ecstatic, powerful, on top of the world.

Luke took a deep breath, steadying himself. _Whoa._ All that from only the apple's presence in his hand. He shook his head and jumped down from the dragon's back. It was time to get back to camp. Maybe next summer he'd ask Chiron for another quest, something new this time…

_Snap._

A twig broke under his feet at he landed. He held his breath, praying that the dragon wouldn't wake up at the sound. Something was stirring behind him. Hissing. Luke slowly turned and drew his sword, looking up at the monster whose heads were mere feet from his face.

The first thing he noticed was the teeth. Thousands of them, all jagged and pointy. Then he noticed the smell. It was horrible; a mixture of eucalyptus and rotting flesh and poison. Luke coughed in spite of himself; the stench was just too awful.

The dragon swiped at him with one of its arms, slashing his face. He brought his sword up blindly, staggering away. He felt the blade slice something and heard the dragon hiss. The something fell onto his shoe.

_The shoes!_ If he could activate them, there was a chance he could escape before he died. He ducked as one of the dragon's heads snapped at him, his hand automatically grasping the object that had hit his foot. A claw. He shoved it in his pocket.

Luke backed up quickly, trying to see out of the eye that wasn't covered in blood. The dragon was hesitant to leave its tree. That was good—it wouldn't chase him.

"_Maia!_" he shouted. The dragon hissed again, but Luke didn't hear. He was already flying away, clutching his sword and his apple.

He had succeeded, but at the same time, he had failed. The apple was in his hands, but he was horribly injured and would probably be left with a giant scar and plenty of pity.

Who would care, anyway?

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_Luke's dragon claw—the one that scarred his face

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**Love it? Hate it? Something in between? Review!**

_~fin~_**  
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